


Entrapment

by campnowhere



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Crack AU, Entrapment AU, F/F, Shady!Kara, Thief!Cat, supercat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-10 01:55:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11681571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/campnowhere/pseuds/campnowhere
Summary: Cat Grant has an untarnished reputation as the world's greatest art thief. So when a priceless painting is stolen in New York, insurance investigator Kara Danvers goes after the master criminal. The strong willed Kara has to entrap Cat, but the thief proves even more elusive than she expected.





	Entrapment

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely (or not so loosely) based on the late 90's cracktastic movie, Entrapment. (I love you, Sean Connery)
> 
> Not for profit. I don't own Supergirl or Entrapment or any of the characters within. For entertainent purposes only. Hopefully. :)

The 100th floor New York penthouse is stark quiet.

Soft, subtle swaths of light spread from above a select group of paintings and sculptures. They are warm spots within the otherwise cold and sparsely decorated space. From within, one can’t even imagine the strong gusts of wind that push and pull against the building…much less against the lithe, dark figure scaling the almost seamless windows outside.

Up twenty stories. Then forty, sixty, eighty stories…almost invisible against the inky black windows, the figure continues to scale the vertical surface, arms and legs moving in a practiced spider-like manner. The night is quiet, traffic almost nonexistent at almost 4 a.m. as the figure brings their precise movements to a halt outside the penthouse window.

A suction mounted harness is attached to the glass above in seconds and the figure begins the rehearsed movements necessary to remove the window. Pulleys, carabiners, ropes, a small motor…are all put into motion quickly and within a handful of seconds the window is sliding up and out, all of its weight carried by the attached Kevlar ropes. 

The gigantic pane of glass shudders as a strong gust of wind blows past and without a sound the thief slips in the window, the only evidence left behind is the sway of the fresh tulips in the vase in front of the window. 

The alarm panel is softly beeping down its thirty seconds of warning. Without a sound, a small magnetic black box is placed over the keypad. The red LED numbers blink in rapid succession as it works its magic. In less than ten seconds, all four numbers blink red and the beeping stops. The box is snatched and tucked away and the thief makes the way to tonight’s target. 

One single painting. Maybe 17th century? A church, a spire, an ancient bridge. Unceremoniously cut at the edges and rolled into a plastic tube before the dust has even settled from the painting being plucked from the wall.

Homer Simpson takes its place, an open can of Duff beer sits easily in his hand and the thief’s head wobbles in satisfaction at the ridiculous sight. 

A high-pitched alarm sounds from the thief’s arm and sets everything into motion. No time to linger. The plastic tube is strapped tightly over back. The alarm is reset right before the lithe figure retreats the same way it came in. A few turns of an electric drill and the window is back in place and the rigging stowed away. 

The only thing remaining is the suction cup holding the thief’s weight and the thief…but both fall away from the surface of the window with one swipe of a gloved hand.  


It only takes ten stories for the mini-chute to be pulled. The dark figure tumbles gracefully in the green grass of the small park across the street only to disappear moments later into an alley a block away. 

It’s seemingly impossible.

In the opposite building, a telescopic lens is abandoned as soon as the figure hits the ground. The door clicks quietly shut as she makes her way to the elevator.

She’s seen enough.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

James Olsen makes his way past dozens of empty cubicles. It’s Saturday, but he’s still worn his best suit. 

He lingers for a moment as he passes by what they call the bullpen. An entire semi-circle of screens banked with images of the crime site. The penthouse in bright lights. The alarm panel. The windows. Homer.

With a shake of his head he continues to the one place he knows he’ll find information. He can see her messy bun from half an office away. “Got it solved for me, Danvers?” he calls as he closes in on her, rolling his eyes when she doesn’t move a muscle…her scuffed converse propped on the edge of the filing cabinet and her desk a nightmare. 

“Actually, I do,” she says in annoyance. She looks like a teenager in her ripped jeans and faded black t-shirt. Her dirty blonde hair is wrangled into a clip at the back of her head and her glasses are barely hanging on the end of her nose.

“Well?” he asks with outstretched hands. “I called at 4:30. With your ego, I figure we’d have this locked up already.”

She smiles at him over the top of her dirty glasses. “I wasn’t alone at 4:30, Olsen.”

“Not my business,” he dismisses. “We’ve got 50 million wrapped up in the policy. Who’s our perp?”

She huffs in annoyance and drops her feet to the floor. “It’s obviously Grant. No one else has the skillset to do this. That penthouse is on the 100th floor. The tech alone that you’d need to get in there would cost a major heist’s payload.”

Olsen scoffs. “Grant is estimated to be in her fifties by now, Danvers. You always try to pin the big ones on her.”

“There’s no one else good enough to pull this off,” she states calmly.

“You’re thinking she came in the window. That’s impossible.”

“It’s not impossible. You’re not listening. It’s the skillset that makes it imaginable. It’s the tech that makes it possible,” she says pointedly.

“It might as well be Jesus Christ,” he mutters as he stares at the three-dimensional displays on her computer.

Kara scoffs. “Jesus couldn’t get away with this.”

“She’s been out of the business for over ten years.”

“That we know of,” Kara counters.

“You’re grasping at straws,” James dismisses, turning to walk back to the bullpen.

“Am I?” she calls, simultaneously pulling up footage of an auction on her computer.

He reluctantly turns back when he hears the painting’s call number announced by the auctioneer. James takes the few steps to peer over Kara’s shoulder. She zooms in to the third row from the back.

“That’s our client’s purchase?”

“Yep. See anyone you know?” she asks smugly as she continues to zoom in on a curly, blonde head. A few seconds more and the head turns, giving the perfect profile.

“She was there,” he says in awe.

“Why buy it when you can steal it?” Kara asks over her shoulder with a wry grin.

**Author's Note:**

> txnmcky on tumblr


End file.
